Unseen
by HR always live on
Summary: HR again, set Series 5. Ruth wakes up unable to see. Harry insists on looking after her as she's suddenly blind. Will this bring them closer? (Bad summary, but I hope it reads better than that.) Chapter 11 is M rated, Now complete.
1. Chapter 1

**Set in the midst of Series five. No Cotterdam.**

* * *

Ruth stretched in bed feeling rather relieved that she'd woken up before the alarm. It was always more relaxing than the shrill beeping bringing her into another day. With her eyes still closed she thought about the day she had today. American agents were swarming in today for a presidential visit. CIA, FBI, anything with three letters and massive egos would be arriving. This shouldn't make her happy, but she was rather looking forward to Harry throwing his weight around when the Americans tried to take over his turf. He had no idea how attractive and… well, downright sexy he could be when his voice went low and stern, demanding the Americans went back to Grosvenor square and out of his sight.

Oh, and after a long day when he loosened his tie. And the top button. Or maybe two. Ruth smiled to herself at her private Harry fantasies and opened her eyes. Or tried to. Nothing happened. She lifted her hand up to feel her eyes. They were there, and she could feel her eyelashes feathering against her fingers as she blinked, but she couldn't see a thing. She was stuck in darkness.

"Shit." She carried on for a few moments, letting her fingertips touch her eyes, then rubbing them with anger. Why couldn't she see?

She waited for a few moments in mounting panic for her vision to clear. It didn't. Total blackness. Her heart was thundering with total fear. Why was everything dark? Fumbling to the bedside table, she picked up her phone and called for an ambulance. She didn't know if it was urgent enough, but 999 was the only number she had any confidence in dialling in the darkness.

* * *

Harry looked around the grid, feeling like it was the deep breath before the storm. All the top secret files had been locked away, except for the ones that concerned their American "partners." Harry looked at his watch and frowned. It was half past nine and Ruth hadn't come in yet. He was always acutely aware of her presence, almost like magnets. He always knew exactly where she was on the grid. When she wasn't here, it felt like… almost like he had no one looking out for him. He knew everyone on the grid was on his side, but Ruth… she was different. She knew him as more than the leader of section D. Even though they'd barely even seen each other outside of Thames House, Harry knew that she knew him better than anyone else in the world.

He picked up his mobile phone and dialled her number, before he could even stop to think about it. After four rings it was answered. "Yeah?" Ruth asked, her voice low and oddly emotionless.

"Ruth, it's Harry," he said. "You arent here, I was just making sure you're okay."

"God Harry, I know it's a really busy day and I'm sorry I'm not there," she said. "I've… got a problem."

"Are you all right?" he asked, knowing it wasn't really any of his business, but wanting to be sure she was okay. He couldn't separate the personal and professional. Not with her.

"Er… I guess," she said in a manner which was totally unconvincing.

"Ruth…"

"I'm in hospital," she said with a sigh. "I… can't see."

"What do you mean?" he asked with confusion, not putting that sentence together. It didn't make sense.

"I mean that I woke up and I can't see," she said simply.

There was silence on the phone line as Harry took in her words. "Is it bad?" Harry asked quietly.

"Bad being that the worlds in complete darkness?" she said snappishly. "Sorry, it's not your fault."

"You're really… you can't see?"

"Yes," she said with a low sigh. "I woke up blind."

"God Ruth," he said quietly.

"Look, I should have called to say I can't come in, but I… I know its bad timing with the Americans, but I hadn't planned it."

Harry shook his head in bewilderment. Typical Ruth, worrying about everyone else. "I'm going to come and see you," he said. "Which hospital?"

"Harry, you're busy," she said.

"I don't care," he said quickly. "Tell me the hospital, or I'll have Malcolm find you and then come to you myself."

"St Mary's," she said, knowing he'd go through with the threat. "Harry, you're busy."

"They aren't landing for an hour at least, because of fog at Heathrow," Harry said. "I have time. I'll see you soon."

She sighed heavily. "Fine," she said. "Bye Harry." He disconnected the phone and nodded at Adam who came over.

"Harry?" he asked.

"I know its bad timing but I'm leaving the grid for a couple of hours," Harry said quietly.

"With everyone descending on us in less than an hour?!" Adam said. "Come on Harry, don't leave me in charge. I don't want to have to be diplomatic to the Americans."

He smiled ruefully. "Ruth's in hospital," he said quietly.

Adam's face changed from irritation to concern. "Is she okay?"

"I'm not sure," Harry said. "I'll be back soon," he added.

"Of course," Adam said. He wasn't sure precisely what was between his boss and his analyst, but he did know it was more than a working relationship. If Ruth was in hospital, Harry would go to her. That much he knew. "Go," Adam said. Harry nodded his thanks and left the grid

* * *

**Someone suggested that I write this after reading one of my stories in which Harry lost his sight. So I've flipped it. Hope you enjoyed.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Thanks for the enthusiasm. This chapter flowed really well, so I'm posting earlier than planned.**

* * *

Harry walked through the hospital, following the directions the receptionist had given him until he found Ruth's hospital room. He knocked twice and then opened the door. Ruth was curled on her side, staring into space. When she heard his footsteps, she sat up and smiled slightly. "You didn't have to come," she said.

"How did you know it was me?" he asked. She didn't reply, instead she blushed an adorable red. Harry didn't push it. He sat down next to her hospital bed and reached for her hand, holding it gently. She tightened her grip on his palm and let their fingers entwine in the silence. They had very rarely touched like this and the touch was making Ruth's heart skip several beats. Neither of them wanted it to end, so Harry kept holding her hand while he spoke. "So you can't see anything?"

"No," she said, voice low. "It's all blackness. Nothing there. I just woke up and… It doesn't matter."

"What are the doctors doing?" Harry asked. Ruth scoffed before answering.

"They are heavily implying that I've been abusing drugs," she said, breathing heavily, the anger clear. "They're waiting for the blood work to come back, then they're going to give me an MRI when that comes back clear. Because it will," she added fiercely.

Harry sighed with distress. He could tell there was something wrong with her eyes, without her needing to say a word. They were usually bright blue, sparkling, alive with intellect. Now they were deadened and dull. "I wish I could see you," she said with frustration. Harry squeezed her hand. "I feel… lost."

"I know," he said, wishing he could say something more comforting. "Have you hit your head on anything?" he asked.

"Not that I remember," she said. "This is so frustrating! Why is this happening to me?!"

"I know you're angry," he said quietly. Her fingers clenched around his hand tightly, almost painful. Then she released his hand, the reluctance clear on her face.

"I am angry," she said. "I want my sight back. And I know you have to go," she added, hearing his phone chirp.

"I'm not leaving," he said, moving only to switch his phone off. When that was done, he took up her hand again with both of his. "I'm staying with you." She smiled at him with satisfaction. She wanted him to stay with her, but she never would have asked. She was too aware that he had other things to do, as well as her reluctance to try and do anything which would define their relationship in the first place.

"Thank you," she said. The door opened suddenly and Harry looked up, feeling Ruth tense.

"Miss Evershed, I have your blood work back," the doctor said. "Nothing abnormal, and nothing that shouldn't be there."

"Great," Ruth said sarcastically. "What now?"

"Now, I'm going to take you down to get an MRI, to see if there's anything that will show up on the scan," the doctor said.

"How long will that take?" Harry asked, gripping Ruth's hand tightly.

"An hour," the doctor said. "Maybe more, depending on how many people are in the queue already."

"Oh for Gods sake Harry, go to work," Ruth said firmly, knowing that having him sitting around the hospital for an hour or more wasn't useful, no matter how much she personally liked and appreciated his presence. "You're already an analyst down, we need you there today. You know we do," she added as he hesitated, clearly torn.

"Fine," he said, squeezing her hand. "Please call me if you need anything," he added fervently.

"Don't worry. We'll take good care of your wife."

"Oh," Ruth said quietly, her face turning red. "No… we're not…"

"What Ruth is trying to say, is we're not married," Harry said calmly, covering her embarrassment.

"Sorry, I shouldn't have assumed," the doctor said. "Anyway, I'll come back in a few minutes, to take you to the third floor for the MRI." The doctor left, the door closing with a click.

"Go Harry," she said.

"Without trying to sound controlling…" he tailed off when he realised this was absolutely none of his business and he had no right asking her.

"I'll let you know when we've got the results," she said, a smile on her face.

"You will?" he asked in surprise.

"Of course I will."

"God Ruth, how can you read me so well?" he asked, almost to himself. All she did was smile. Harry's phone rang again, interrupting them.

"Go." Harry reached for her, and without thinking about it too much, pressed a kiss to her cheek. He lingered, his lips against her smooth skin for as long as he reasonably could before drawing back.

"I'll see you later."

"Bye." Ruth waited until the door closed and then waited a few more minutes to make sure she was alone. She risked a small "Harry?" and when there was no response, she curled up on her side and thought about what had just happened.

When he'd opened the door she had known it was Harry before he'd spoken. The weight of his footsteps, the scent of his aftershave, the mere presence that he seemed to command. She knew she was attracted to him, and paid more attention to him than she should while going through the terror reports at work, but she hadn't been aware of exactly how she knew him. To know he'd entered a room, without being able to see him, or have him say a word? That was more attention than she'd been aware of giving him.

Then she started thinking about her eyesight, the more pressing problem. Was there something seriously wrong with her? She thought that maybe with a little time, a few hours, her vision would clear. But it hadn't. God, there had to be something serious wrong with her. With that rather depressing thought, she counted the minutes until she had someone to speak to again.

* * *

**The medical facts are going to be completely fictitious, so bear with me! Thank you for the reviews so far. **


	3. Chapter 3

Harry kept looking at his watch and worrying. He'd left Ruth more than five hours ago and she hadn't called. He'd heard nothing from her and he couldn't help worrying. He had to stop himself from calling her several times, he didn't want to be a pain and he was unsure of how much information he should know. They weren't together, no matter what he felt for her. Was it any of his business?

"Harry!" He turned to Adam who'd clearly been speaking to him for the past five minutes and he hadn't been paying the slightest bit of attention.

"Sorry," he said.

"Go," Adam said. "You're worried about Ruth, just go to the hospital."

"No," Harry said. "I'm fine, I'm needed here." He picked up the stack of files on his desk and leafed through them absently, wanting Adam gone.

"It's not any of my business but…"

"No it's not," Harry agreed tightly.

"But," Adam continued. "You're worried about her. You're no good here, all you're doing is thinking about her. I'll manage the Americans. God knows how," he added.

Harry thought about it for a moment. Then nodded. "I'll be in when I can."

"Don't rush," Adam said. "We've got a temporary analyst in anyway, we'll be fine.

"Thank you," he said. Harry patted his pocket to make sure his keys were still there and then he left. He needed to see Ruth.

* * *

Harry knocked on her front door loudly, and repetitively. "Ruth!" No response. "I'm not going away, let me in," he added.

"It's open," her voice said, muffled. Harry tried the door and found she was right. He walked through her hallway, and found Ruth in the living room, curled up on the sofa. She'd obviously been crying, her face was red and puffy and there were tears down her face. She moved her feet off of the sofa, making room for him. Harry sighed and sat down next to her.

"They said you'd discharged yourself," he said quietly, taking her hand and rubbing his thumb along her knuckles.

"Yes," she said, wiping her face to get rid of the tears. "I didn't want to stay there. Bloody hospitals are so useless."

Harry smiled at her, even though she couldn't see. "What did they tell you?" Ruth sighed heavily and then shook her head. She didn't want to talk about it.

"Well, clearly its bad otherwise you wouldn't be here, crying and feeling sorry for yourself."

"Harry…"

"I'm not criticising," he said gently, trying to prepare himself to hear the worst. "Just tell me."

"I have a tumour in my brain. On my optic nerve," she said simply. "Which is why I can't see a thing. I'm… upset," she added quietly.

"Okay," Harry said, trying to hide the fear that gripped him. "Can they treat it?"

"I refused," she said firmly. "Yes they can, but it's brain surgery, and the risks are not appealing." Harry squeezed her hand and she answered the unspoken question. "Stroke, paralysis, death."

"Oh," Harry said quietly.

"Yeah," she said.

"So they just sent you home?" Harry asked after a moments silence.

"No, I went home. I didn't want to be in the hospital while doctors tried to convince me to cut into my brain. I insisted that I leave."

Harry wanted to ask what was going to happen now, but he kept his mouth shut. It seemed Ruth had read his mind though. "I'm going back in a couple of weeks. To have another scan and see if the tumour… is growing."

"Okay," Harry said. "Apart from your eyesight… is it serious? Is it…"

"Going to be fatal?" she asked bluntly. "Probably not. Or not yet anyway. I don't know. They don't know either which is why I'm going back for tests." Two more tears rolled down her face and she wiped them way angrily. Harry felt his heart break for her. She looked so broken and defeated, and he hated that about her. Ruth was usually so strong, the heart of the grid. Now she looked small. He squeezed her hand tightly and she smiled a little at him.

"You should go, I know you're busy," she said.

"I am," he said. "But unless you're kicking me out, I'd like to stay here with you."

"I'm not going to be good company," she said with a sniff.

"I'm not here for your company," he said, voice low which made her shiver in spite of herself. They both sat there in the silence together, neither speaking and not moving. Simply existing with each other.

* * *

At some point, maybe minutes later, maybe hours, Harry got up and went into the kitchen to make some tea. When he added sugar, he found his hands shaking, the teaspoon rattling against the mug. He dropped it and braced his hand against the kitchen countertop, taking deep breaths and trying to calm down. Brain tumour. That was about the worst it could get right? No news could be as terrifying as that. As a man who dealt with terror on a daily basis, he thought he was beyond being frightened. This just proved he wasn't. Scared didn't cover it. Ruth had spoken about it simply, but she must be shocked and incredibly upset. As well as being scared stiff.

For the first time Harry had to contemplate the possibility that he could lose her. Never had that occurred to him before. She had a relatively safe job and was rarely out in the field. If something happened to either of them, he would expect it to be him, not her. Harry shook his head, realising that he was thinking about them as a couple when they weren't. That way madness leads.

Ruth had a brain tumour. That sentence was ridiculous. He took up the teaspoon again, stirring in the sugar slowly as he thought about it. She should have it treated, that was his first thought. But she was also right, in the fact that the risks were not appealing. _Come on Harry, she isn't asking for your opinion or your advice. Don't torture yourself._

"Harry?" her voice called, soft and worried by his long absence.

"Coming," he replied, taking both mugs and going back into the living room.


	4. Chapter 4

**The good news is it's Wimbledon, and I like to write while watching sport, so the updates will probably be quicker. Enjoy.**

* * *

"Are you hungry?" Harry asked.

"No," she said simply.

"Can I ask…"

"Go on," she encouraged.

"How did you get home on your own?"

"You really know how to boost a girls ego don't you?" she said, letting go of his hand and stiffening. Harry wished he'd kept his mouth shut. "The hospital made me sign so many forms, saying I was leaving against medical advice, then they bundled me in a cab. The driver made sure I got in my house okay, making me feel like a five year old." She breathed heavily through her nose.

"I'm sorry," he said sincerely. "I didn't mean to make you feel… Well, I'm sorry." She shrugged, but he knew she was hurting. "Well I should go," he said reluctantly, sensing that his company wasn't welcome. "Call if you need anything. I'll come around in the morning to see how you are."

"I don't need to be checked on!" she said loudly. "I'm not incapable."

"I know that," he said. "It's for my own peace of mind. Because I worry about you." He hesitated before adding quietly, "I care about you."

A small smile filled her face, and she gave him a bit of reassurance. "My phone is on the kitchen table, and you're on my speed dial. I will call if I need you."

"Good," he said. Leaning over her, he kissed her cheek gently. "And lock your door," he added.

"I will," she said, and he knew she was trying not to roll her eyes.

"Bye Ruth." She nodded and let him go, her front door closing with a final click behind him.

* * *

The next morning he knocked on her door at about eight in the morning. He didn't know if she was taking the time off to have a lay in, but he hoped he wouldn't disturb her. "Hang on," her voice said. He let out a sigh of relief, pleased that she was up. He heard her fingers fumbling at the lock and then she opened the door. Her face was a grimace of pain, her right hand curled around her left arm. He looked down and saw a burn on her forearm.

"God Ruth, what happened?" he asked, going into the house, and holding her wrist so he could look at the burn.

"I tried to make myself a cup of tea," she said. "I thought I could manage and I… scalded myself. I'm so useless," she added bitterly.

"Sit down and I'll get some ice," he said firmly, in his best grid voice. She didn't even bother arguing. Harry wrapped some ice in a tea towel and then went back into the living room and placed it on her arm. She hissed with pain.

"Is it serious? It hurts like it is," she added.

"You'll be fine."

"Will I?" she asked pessimistically, and Harry knew she was talking about more than her burnt arm.

"Yes you will," he said firmly.

Ruth bit her lip in thought as Harry carefully treated her burn. It wasn't bad, but he didn't like seeing the skin pink and livid, and he hated seeing Ruth in any pain. "Look Harry, I hate what I'm going to ask, but it seems I don't have a choice. Can you help me please? I don't have anyone in my life I can ask to help me now that I've gone… blind. I don't have any friends, my family's either dead or abroad, I don't have anyone Harry. Except you, you're the closest thing to a friend I have. If you don't want to, or its asking too much just say so. The hospital gave me numbers of people who'll help me, I just don't want to be with a stranger and…"

Harry put his fingers across her lips, making her stop talking. She had spoken very quickly, and he knew how much it cost her to ask him for this favour. It hadn't occurred to her that he would very willingly help her. He'd wanted to stay with her the night before, but hadn't asked because of fear of rejection. Ruth was so stubborn, maybe more so than himself. So he'd left her alone to struggle last night. What an idiot he was.

"Of course I'll help you," he said honestly. "I wanted to offer last night but I thought you might shout at me." She smiled slightly at that.

"I probably would have," she admitted. "But I feel better after getting a good nights sleep. And… I need help Harry."

"Of course," he said. "Look, I have to sort out things at work so I can take some leave. I'll be gone maybe two or three hours, will you be all right?" She nodded. Then looked worried.

"Oh I don't want to mess up things at work for you," she said. "Section D's already down an analyst, you can't leave too."

"I can," he said. "Have I taken any holiday since you were seconded from GCHQ?"

"Well, no," she said reluctantly. "But..."

"Exactly," he said. "I'm owed some holiday, and there are a couple of substitutes who've been itching to get into my shoes. If temporarily. We'll drag someone over from section A or C. Don't worry."

"Yes, but shouldn't your holiday involve… oh I don't know, sunbathing on a beach, travelling to new places or getting on a plane at the very least. Not looking after a blind woman."

Harry didn't say what he was thinking, that looking after her, spending time with her would be better than any holiday. "Let me," he said in a low whisper. "Let me help you Ruth."

It was the way her name reverberated off of his lips that made up her mind for her. Low and delicious. He spoke her name in a way no one else ever had and it almost made her knees shake. She smiled with acceptance.

"Okay."

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**Thank you for the reviews so far, and I'd love it if you could spare the time to leave another one. Thanks x**


	5. Chapter 5

Ruth was dozing on the sofa when Harry knocked on her door late that afternoon. She awoke with a jerk and rubbed her eyes blearily. Then sighed as her vision hadn't miraculously come back. "Coming," she mumbled in the direction of the door. She opened it and stood aside, letting him in.

"I woke you," he said in a low voice, looking at her face. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to."

"No it's fine," she said. "I'm limited on what I can actually do now I'm vision-less. I just… drifted off." She shook her head, going through to the living room and sitting back down as Harry followed suit. "How's everything on the grid?" she asked.

"I don't want you to worry about that," Harry said firmly.

"No, I'm not worried," she said honestly. "I'm more… curious. Talking about obnoxious American CIA agents and politicians might just take my mind off of my own problems." Harry sighed heavily. "Please," she said in a small voice. "Talk to me like you usually do. Like… I'm the one you depend on at work," she added shyly.

"I do depend on you," he said honestly. "More than you know." He gripped her hand and squeezed tightly for a moment before returning to the conversation. He did keep his fingers touching hers though, tiny gentle touches between them both. "Well, the first thing on the agenda was when Adam caught an FBI agent rifling through his desk."

"Oh I bet he didn't like that," Ruth said amused.

"No," Harry said. "I think the threat of the Tower of London was thrown around once or twice." Ruth smiled and let Harry's voice wash over her, relaxing her. He had such a wonderful voice, and she could easily listen to it all day.

* * *

By unspoken agreement, they decided that Harry would stay in her spare bedroom that night. Neither mentioned it, but with their fish and chip supper Harry had a large whisky, so she assumed he wouldn't be driving back home. It was a nice feeling, to have someone who cared enough for her, to insist on staying, whether she wanted him there or not.

Harry on the other hand had noticed her large collection of whisky bottles in her kitchen. All of his favourites, and most of them unopened. He hoped it wasn't a coincidence. He liked the thought that she bought whisky because of him. Either for a chance visit that he might come over, or maybe (more sentimentally) that it simply reminded her of him. But Harry didn't ask her, he wasn't idiot enough to say anything that may destroy the happy companionable bubble they had at the moment. It was both too sweet and all too rare for them.

Later that evening Ruth pointed him in the vague direction of the spare room and he thanked her. But she didn't go to find her own bed, instead she stood on the landing, her lip bit between her teeth and a look of concern on her face.

"What's wrong?" he asked. She reached for him slowly and nervously, her blindness becoming the overwhelming sense. She wanted to see him and it was so frustrating not to be able to. Eventually her hand came into contact with him, brushing his shoulder. She followed the curve of his neck until her fingers were resting against his stubbled cheek. The slight rasp of his beard against her palm felt wonderful. Real and solid. Something to hold on to. "Thank you Harry," she said quietly. "I'm… glad you're here." Before she could think about it too much, she reached up for him and brushed her lips against his cheek. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight Ruth," he said, feeling his skin glow where her lips had touched him. He watched her until she closed her bedroom door and then went to the spare room to find some rest for himself. It had been a long hard day.

* * *

Ruth awoke with a shock, her heart hammering in her chest as a loud scream rang in her eardrums. Breathing heavily, she waited in the silence, unsure if she'd dreamt it or not. Then another scream ripped through the night. It was coming from Harry, she'd recognise his voice anywhere. Even now when it was filled with fear and anguish.

Why was he screaming? Ruth suddenly felt extremely vulnerable. Was there someone in her house? She wouldn't know. She wouldn't be able to see them. Very nervously, she followed the sound of his voice. Keeping a hand to the wall to guide her, she followed it to his room. The door was closed, and after a moments consideration, she opened it. Instantly she realised he was having a nightmare. She could hear the rustle of bed sheets as he thrashed in his sleep.

Ruth was both relieved it was nothing more sinister, and saddened by the disturbances to his sleep he clearly lived with.

"No!" he yelled. "Please!"

"Harry its okay," she said to soothe him. It had no effect. He kept mumbling, interrupted now and then by a scream. Ruth considered for a moment, but then went into the room and towards the bed. She put her hand on the sheets, trying to wake him, which was tricky when she couldn't see him. Her hand found his ankle and she squeezed hard to try and wake him up. "Harry, wake up!" she said loudly.

"Oh God," he said in a much different tone. A calmer one. He must be awake. "I'm sorry," he said. "What happened?"

"You were screaming in your sleep," she said simply.

"God, sorry," he said again. She let go of his foot, almost reluctantly. "I… have nightmares. After what I've seen its hardly surprising, but I'm sorry I disturbed you."

"Don't be," she said with a small smile. The silence between them became overwhelming and Ruth was the one to break it. "I'm going back to sleep."

"I'll try to keep quiet."

She turned and left the room slowly, carefully retracing her footsteps. Harry heard the bedsprings dip in the next room after a minute or two and he let out the breath he'd been holding. God, she had no idea how alluring she looked when all she wore was an old T shirt to sleep in. And he wasn't going to enlighten her either. Not when it would seem like he was trying to take advantage of her. He sighed and closed his eyes, praying for a dreamless sleep.

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**Thank you for all the reviews so far. Hope you have the time to leave another one. **


	6. Chapter 6

Harry woke up slowly, feeling very groggy and tired. He rubbed his eyes and then jerked in surprise. Ruth was lying next to him. What had he missed in the middle of the night? He ran through everything he remembered, and nothing pointed to Ruth getting into bed with him. And it had to have been that way around, because he was still in the spare bedroom. What had he missed?

Before doing anything else, he picked up his watch from the bedside table. Half past eight in the morning. He hadn't slept this late in years. Clearly sleeping next to Ruth had a soporific effect on him.

He was debating whether or not to wake her up when she stirred slightly. She stretched, still with her eyes closed and sighed quietly. "Morning," Harry said. She smiled at him and opened her unfocused eyes. "I'm surprised to find you in my bed," he said, as a way of trying to get an explanation from her.

"You were annoying me," she said simply, without any hint of malice or irritation in her voice. He smiled at her, but said nothing. "You kept mumbling and moaning in your sleep," she added. "I couldn't drift off… knowing you were having nightmares just a few feet away. I… hope I haven't over stepped, but I just wanted… to give you what comfort I might. Sorry."

"No," he said firmly. "Never apologise for getting into bed with me."

He realised how that sounded a few seconds after the words came out of his mouth. He hadn't meant to imply anything, but… Much to his relief he saw her smiling. She hadn't taken it the wrong way then. "I'll remember that," she said, a teasing note to her voice. Before he could formulate a reply, her face changed into one of more seriousness.

"What is it?" he asked in concern.

"I… it'll sound stupid. But I want to touch your face," she said. Then she rushed over her words quickly. "I mean, I can't see you and its so frustrating. I just want to have you fixed in my mind." He didn't answer with words, instead he grabbed her hand and put her palm to his cheek. "Thank you," she whispered, allowing her other hand to follow suit. She let her fingers feel the contours of his face, first clumsily because of her loss of sight, and then more finely and delicately once she'd got used to it.

"You haven't shaved in a while," she said, her fingers curling around the new growth on his cheeks.

"No," he said. "I've been busy for a few days." She smiled at that. Harry watched the concentration on her face with interest as her hands went all over his skin. Just for a moment he was thankful that she couldn't see. If she could, she'd never allow his intense scrutiny of her beautiful face. She'd blush or look away. Then he felt selfish for the fleeting thought. What kind of man was he?

That wasn't answered, instead he just watched her as her fingers followed the arch of his eyebrows, gently drawing her thumbs down so she just brushed against his eyelashes. The touch was very intimate and he felt his heart pound uncomfortably. All she touched was his face, but it was if an unspoken trust was passing between them. One of her hands travelled to his hair, fingers curling gently. The other went lower and her thumb went over his full lips. God, she wanted to see them. Wanted to see him pout at her. She jumped a bit as Harry opened his mouth and gently bit her thumb. She was surprised, but smiled as she dropped her hands from him.

"Now let me touch you," he said in a low voice like velvet. Ruth felt the heat flood to her cheeks and shook her head.

"You can see me," she said. "It gives you an unfair advantage."

He leaned close to her and whispered in her ear. "I'll close my eyes."

She was about to object, but then changed her mind, shut her mouth and nodded. He touched his palm to her cheek, and then closed his eyes as promised. Her skin was so soft was the first thought that entered his head. His thumb went over the velvet terrain of her cheek several times, feeling he could never get bored. He let his other hand join the first and traced around her eyes. Closed, he realised as his finger felt her eyelashes. He let both hands touch her eyelids before tangling in her dark hair. He felt the silkiness and wanted to bury his face in it. Lift her hair to kiss the back of her neck. But he didn't. Instead his fingers travelled downwards, touching her ears. He could feel the slight indent on her lobes where her ears were pierced. That small intimacy made him suddenly want her with a fierce desire which shocked himself. He shook his head and traced the line of her jaw gently. He let his fingers go southwards until he found the thundering pulse in her neck where he stopped for a moment. Her heart was racing. Unable to help himself, he kissed her lips, very gently and sweetly. She responded, her lips melding to his, much to his relief. He knew he was taking advantage of her, but even that knowledge couldn't bring him to stop kissing her. Only the need to breathe stopped him.

"I'm sorry," he said instantly, laying next to her. "That was selfish. I shouldn't have done that."

"Why?" she asked, her voice curious.

"Because… it's taking advantage of you. It's… I just shouldn't."

"I'm a grown woman and can make my own decisions," she said. "If I hadn't wanted you to do that, I'd have made it perfectly clear the moment your lips touched mine."

Harry inclined his head in agreement, but still thought that it was wrong. Ruth was clearly reading his mind, because she sighed with impatience, then kissed him again, deeper. Harry knew she was trying to prove a point, but that didn't stop him from responding to her warm and welcoming lips.

"I've wanted to do that for a long time," she said quietly.

"Then why didn't you?" he asked, letting his hand stroke her hair gently.

"Because I like to complicate things," she said simply. "Waking up blind though… it has a way of realigning my priorities." He smiled sadly at her. "I do want to ask you one thing though. If you're here because you pity me, then I want you to leave. The only thing worse than being lonely and afraid is to suffer that. I can't bear it Harry. Pity."

"I feel many things for you Ruth," he said. "But pity isn't one of them." It took a minute for her to accept this, but when she did a smile flowered across her face. Just to see that had Harry's lips tugging upwards in an answering smile. The silence between them grew and Ruth shifted in the bed slightly to get bit more comfortable. Harry groped in the bed sheets, wanting to find her hand. Instead his fingers found her thigh and they both froze. Her leg was warm and soft as silk and after a second (or two) he pulled back, and found her wrist. She entwined their fingers quickly and squeezed.

Some unspoken barrier between them had been crossed before either of them realised quite how it happened. And now… there was no going back. As the thought drifted through Ruth's mind, she lifted Harry's hand and pressed a kiss to the back of it. They both smiled, almost simultaneously and then Ruth closed her eyes, clearly planning on going back to sleep. Harry was content to simply watch her. He'd never tire of it.


	7. Chapter 7

He must have drifted off to sleep again because he awoke to Ruth's hand on his stomach. Making an effort to keep his breathing deep and even, as if in sleep, he opened his eyes. Her face was full of concentration as her hand flexed slightly, fingertips feathering across his skin. She'd pushed his T shirt up a few inches, wanting their skin to be touching. She knew it was wrong, touching him like this when he was asleep, but it wasn't quite enough to stop her. After all, she was limited with her eyesight, so she had to make the most of the senses she had left.

Very slowly she let her hand creep upwards under his shirt. Harry thought his body wasn't that impressive at his age in life, but the look of desire and want on her face had him reassessing. She wanted him. He could tell by the flush in her cheeks and the way she licked her lips. Her fingers slowly went across his skin, the hairs soft under her palm. It was only when her thumb reached his nipple (Harry had to fight to keep his breathing even and his body from reacting to that touch) that something seemed to stop in her mind. She turned her face away from him and pulled her hand back, still moving gently, but this time leaving her impromptu exploration of him. She sighed to herself, swung her legs out of bed and carefully left the bedroom, much to his disappointment. He heard her feet slowly go down the stairs and he gave her a few minutes head start before following.

Why had she stopped touching him? That had felt good, and clearly she wanted to touch him. The fact that Ruth could want him sexually had entered his mind before, but it was usually chased out by a rational "_of course not Harry, you're fifteen years her senior and her boss. Don't be irrational._" Now, he saw that she did want him. And that thought was exhilarating.

When downstairs, he found her eating toast. He hid the fact he was impressed that she'd made that for herself blind and asked the more pressing question before he could stop himself. "Why?"

"Hmm?" she asked, her voice all lightness.

"Why did you stop? A few minutes ago in bed," he added.

"You were awake," she said with a sigh. "God, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have. I wanted… I just wanted to touch you." She took a bite of toast, clearly thinking before speaking again. "I know it was wrong. To touch you when you're sleeping, but… I couldn't help myself."

Harry pushed back a chair and sat down next to her, debating what to say to her to get her to open up, without making it worse. Their relationship had so often been the things **_not_ **said between them. The stolen glances held a moment or two too long. They didn't have that option any longer, because Ruth wasn't able to communicate that way. So Harry didn't have the option of keeping his thoughts silent, in the hope that Ruth would be able to read his body language or the look in his eyes. Instead he had to voice it. He took her hand between both of hers before speaking, weighing each word carefully.

"Ruth, I don't mind if you touch me. I do wish you'd do it when I was conscious though." She smiled at that. "I care for you Ruth. More than I can say. I want a relationship with you. And it has nothing to do with what's happened this week. I've felt this way for a while." He rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand while speaking. "I don't want to deny what's between us anymore. And if I'm being perfectly honest, I enjoy waking up with you in my bed. And I'd love to wake up that way tomorrow."

She took a moment, but then shook her head, making his heart sink. "My bed's bigger," she said simply. "We can wake up there tomorrow." He smiled at her, wanting more than that small (or not so small) gift. "And, yes. I do want more Harry. I'm just frightened."

"Of what?" he asked quietly.

"That you'll feel obliged to staying with me," she said sadly. "I don't want that. I want you to be able to leave me, otherwise I don't feel like… it would be real."

He smiled at her. "I don't stay with someone when I don't want to," he said firmly. She smiled slightly.

"Promise?"

"I promise," he said. "Come here." But she didn't move, instead he did, kissing her cheek, then moving to her lips. Her soft, full, beautiful lips. Her hands snaked behind his neck, holding him close, and he felt a small thrill run through him at the demonstration that she wanted this. He only stopped kissing her when the words over the kitchen radio started to permeate his lust filled brain.

"… assassinated at the leaving banquet late last night held in the presidents honour. It has been confirmed within the last half an hour that the US president has died in hospital after a fatal shooting."

Ruth had started listening too, and her face went white and blank with shock. There weren't many details on the news buletin, but Harry picked up his phone, still in his jacket pocket, hanging on the back of the kitchen chair. No messages he saw with surprise. "I have to call in," he said firmly. Ruth just nodded, too shocked to say anything. Harry turned the radio off so he could concentrate on the call.

"Adam, do you have a minute to talk?" Harry said as soon as his call was answered.

"Yep," he said. "How's Ruth?" This comment seemed so normal that it threw Harry for a moment.

"She's fine," he said. "I'm going to put the phone on speaker okay?"

"Sure," Adam said. "So I take it you heard the news?"

"Yes," Harry said. "What in the name of God happened? And how much trouble are MI5 in?"

"Oh, we're not in any trouble at all," Adam said, a hint of smugness in his voice. "No blame can be laid at our door."

"What happened?" Ruth repeated, eager to know the more salacious details which wouldn't ever be released publicly.

"Yesterday afternoon and into the evening before the banquet, we were battling with the CIA immensely. They didn't like the MI5 presence or our "annoying and unnecessary" double checks into some of their agents who'd be standing as security. There were three men we didn't like being there, but the CIA weren't having it. They demanded we leave their president alone. We refused. So the head of the CIA in London had a meeting with both the PM and the Home Secretary, saying if MI5 didn't leave the Americans alone, the President would be on a flight back to Washington causing disgrace to the country's hospitality and no other foreign head of state would ever visit us again."

"So they gave in," Ruth surmised. "And ordered you to leave the Americans alone."

"Yes," Adam said with a grin. "And with a direct order from the Prime Minister, we had no choice but to pull back. Because we had no influence on the banquet or its security, no blame can be put at our door. It's why I didn't call you. I didn't need to."

"So who shot him?" Harry asked.

"Oh, one of those three agents we were worried about" Adam said easily. "All three of them were working together, and right now there are highly uncomfortable phone calls bouncing between Washington and Downing street."

"You know we'll be blamed anyway," Harry said simply. "Whether it was our fault or not."

"Probably," Adam agreed. "But it wasn't. An American leader, shot by American agents, at an event organised by Grosvenor square, and the Americans refused any help to protect their president. It just happened to have happened on our soil that's all."

Harry paused, but he had to ask. "Was my name mentioned?"

"Yes," Adam said with a sigh. "I said you weren't to be disturbed."

Harry was silent, but was running things over in his mind. He didn't want his officers blamed for this atrocity because of inexperience, or the fact that Harry had left the grid in their very capable hands for a personal issue. Both Ruth and Adam could almost hear his thoughts as if he'd voiced them.

"Go," Ruth said calmly. "I know you want to, and you'll be distracted all day if you don't."

"I think… reminding the Home Secretary of several things I have in my arsenal might help," Harry said. "I don't want MI5 blamed, and I certainly don't want our section blamed. I'll be on the grid in an hour or so," he added to Adam.

"Okay," he said, almost indifferently, and disconnected the call.

"I'm sorry," he said to Ruth. "I should go in. You know…"

"I know," she said softly. "Don't worry about me."

He sighed heavily. "Can I do anything before I go?"

"Can you make me a cup of tea?" she asked quietly. "I didn't want to risk the kettle again."

"How's your arm?" he asked.

"It stings," she said. "It's not so bad though." Harry made her tea in silence and then put it on the table. He guided her hand to the handle and she thanked him. He looked at the burn and saw it was healing. Not quite as livid a colour as it had been. Before thinking about it, he pressed a kiss to her arm and she gasped in surprise.

"I didn't mean to hurt you," he said.

"You didn't," she said. "Just surprised me." She reached for him and touched his arm gently. Still in his T shirt then, she thought as his bare skin sparked against her fingertips. "Get dressed. You can't go to work like that. And I want to hear everything."

"I'll tell you later," he promised. She smiled in thanks and then heard his footsteps receding from the kitchen. She put her fingers to her lips, still feeling his kiss on her mouth. God, what she wouldn't give to have eyes that worked. It was amazing how within the space of a week her priorities had been changed so drastically. She didn't want to be the woman sleeping with her boss. She never wanted that and lost all respect for women she'd worked with who'd done that in the past. So she had let her fear cloud her desire to be with Harry. Stupid and unimportant people, and she'd allowed it to bother her. Now it seemed so… stupid. God Ruth, she told herself. What were you thinking. And now you have a brain tumour sitting on your optic nerve. Talk about being worried by pointless things!

"Oh!" She hadn't heard Harry come back in, she'd been busy wallowing over her eyesight and her tumour. Because she hadn't heard him, she'd been intensely surprised when she felt lips on hers. Warm full lips which kissed very well indeed. After her brief surprise, she sank into the kiss, her fingers playing with his silk tie. "I'll see you later," he murmured.

"What colour is your tie?" she asked.  
"Blue. Navy. Why?"

"So I can picture you today. Have fun debating with politicians."

"I will." He left her house and she heard the ignition of the car start up. He drove away, and then… silence.

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**Thank you for the reviews so far, and if you have a few seconds, I'd love another one. Thanks :)**


	8. Chapter 8

Ruth spent the rest of the afternoon going through her wardrobe, trying to work out what each item of clothing was by touch. She may be blind, but she didn't want to look like she couldn't even dress herself properly. Luckily she hadn't bought any new clothes in about three years, so she could work out what most things were. She put on a pair of jeans and an old baggy shirt which she loved. It was her comfort shirt, which she usually wore to curl up on the sofa with a good book on a rainy afternoon. But she felt like she needed some comfort today. And as Harry wasn't here, her shirt would have to do the job.

By the time she'd finished several hours later she heard her door opening. Going downstairs the pungent scent of vinegar reached her nose. Fish and chips. "Harry?"

"I thought you might be hungry."

"I'm famished," she said honestly. "God that smells so good."

"I didn't know what you'd want so I got one cod and one plaice. I don't mind which I have."

"Plaice please," she said, sitting down. "There's tomato ketchup in the fridge." Harry got it for her and they dived in, greasy fingers notwithstanding. They were silent until their meals were half gone. "So tell me more. What happened?"

"Nothing serious," he said. "I had a rather entertaining chat with Nicholas Blake. I do enjoy it when politicians are terrified they're going to be thrown out of office. It makes them more amenable."

"Oh I love it when you go all stern," Ruth said with a smile. "Your voice changes. You have… a very expressive voice Harry."

"Oh do I?" he said in a way which made her blush. She turned her face to the table, the habit of looking down overcoming her. Harry continued eating, waiting for her shyness to abate. It did and she turned the conversation away from politicians, back to the grid. "How is Adam doing in charge?"

* * *

Harry was exhausted but he didn't want to move. They were curled up on the sofa together watching some quiz show on the TV. Between the pair of them, they'd come up with all the right answers, save one about Olympic rowing, which neither Harry nor Ruth knew. Harry was sat on the sofa, Ruth's head against his chest, his arms around her torso. It was so homey and normal, and he loved it. He was touching her more than he ever had before and her skin was only blocked by his by thin cotton. He longed to run his hand over her naked skin, but tried to push the thought away. He didn't want his body to become aroused. Or not yet anyway. When she was ready, and wanted it.

Harry let his hand drift through her hair leisurely and she smiled at him. Then yawned. "I think we should go up to bed," she said.

Harry felt a deep reluctance to move but nodded. "Mm, all right then." They went upstairs in silence and Ruth went into the bathroom. He didn't know if she was aware of it, but she'd left the door open a sliver. As she slowly undressed, he could see her skin being revealed. He should look away. He needed to look away. But he couldn't. Her shirt fell to the floor and he was looking at more of her naked skin than he had ever seen before. So pale, almost translucent. It looked very touchable and kissable. God, he wanted to hold her.

She reached down and unbuttoned her jeans. Look away Harry, he told himself. He did, but only for a few seconds before his willpower broke down. Her shapely legs were revealed, a smattering of freckles on her right thigh, something he was very glad to know about her. Then her hands went to her bra. No, he couldn't look any longer, it wouldn't be right. Not until he had the luxury of kissing her skin too.

He undressed quickly, changing into a T shirt to sleep in. Then he called to her "Which side do you sleep on?"

"The same as we were last night," she said, coming into the bedroom. She ran her hand over the bed, trying to find the edge of the duvet and then she got in. Harry followed her lead and pulled her into his arms for a goodnight kiss. He moved to whisper in her ear, "goodnight Ruth." She shivered, having him so very close to her.

"Goodnight."

* * *

Harry awoke suddenly, to kisses on his face. His cheeks, his lips, the tip of his nose. "You told me to wake you if I wanted to touch you."

"So I did." Her kisses went to the hollow of his throat as Harry leaned over to switch the bedside lamp on. It was still dark outside, and he looked at the clock. God, it was early. "And what a wonderful way to wake up this is." His hands went around her waist and then he really looked at her. She was naked from the waist up. He bit his lip, breathing coming heavily. "God Ruth…" he whispered. "You're beautiful." His hands rose to her breasts, cupping them firmly, and she closed her eyes at the touch. His thumbs brushed over her nipples which hardened instantly. "Is this okay?" he asked. She nodded quickly and he pushed her gently onto her back. Leaning over her he took her nipple in his mouth and sucked, making her moan. Had he any time to think, he probably wouldn't have been so bold, but he was half asleep and Ruth was half naked in bed. That took away any reservations or second thoughts he had.

Her hands were on his shoulders, gently stroking his back as he licked, kissed and sucked both of her breasts. She sighed and gasped with both contentment and desire. He was very good at this.

After a few minutes of bliss she shook her head. He stopped instantly but all she did was pressed her hands to his chest, and he lay on his back. She smiled at him and reached down to pull the hem of his T shirt. He got the point, and took it off quickly. Then he lay down and watched as she started to touch him, a little hesitantly at first, but then with more confidence. Both of her palms slowly and gently caressed his skin as her eyes fluttered closed. He loved to watch her, and the fact the she wore nothing from the waist up really was an added bonus. He reached up for her face and stroked her cheek, making her smile.

His chest was warm and she loved the feel of his skin. Without trying to think too much about it, she leaned over him and kissed his chest, her lips sending thrills through him. It was when she started licking his nipples that he groaned out loud. He wrapped his arms around her tightly, pressing their bodies together. "Mm, Ruth," he whispered with satisfaction. She smiled and then moved up his body and kissed him deeply. It was such a satisfying way to wake up. When they parted they were both smiling.

"I wish I'd known this about you before," Harry said, stroking her back. "How you like to start your day," he added.

She laughed. "Well, I don't usually have the privilege of waking up next to you do I?" she said. "I like it." She spoke it so simply and easily that Harry felt his heart stop for a moment. Suddenly all the past complications of work, the grid and everything else faded away. She liked being in bed with him. Why had they confused the issue?

Before he could stop himself, he found his right hand stroking her breast gently, Ruth sighing under the touch. "You feel good," she said lazily, eyes closed. Harry took that as a big compliment. If he could reduce her extensive vocabulary to the word "good" just by touching her, she must really enjoy it. He kissed the hollow of her throat and then pulled the duvet back over them both. "Mm, goodnight."

"What time is it?" Ruth asked suddenly.

"Half past three in the morning," he said with a smile. "But you can wake me up any time."

"Sorry," she said. "I thought… it was morning."

"I know you did," he said easily. "Sleep." She closed her eyes and took his advice.

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**Thank you for the reviews. I'm sure the rating will be raised soon ;)**


	9. Chapter 9

**This will be my last update until Monday at the earliest. I have a very busy weekend. Enjoy.**

* * *

The days slowly trickled by. They talked of books, films and the weather. Nothing of any consequence. And they certainly didn't mention Ruth's tumour. It seemed that neither of them wanted to think about it. She was very grateful to him though, helping with things she couldn't manage on her own. Although Harry privately thought she was managing very well, and it wasn't very often when she started to feel sorry for herself.

The thing she missed most was reading her books. Now she had all the time in the world and she couldn't do it, which was highly frustrating. She mentioned this to Harry one rainy afternoon and he insisted on reading to her. She offered only a token protest, because the prospect of Harry reading to her had more attractions than she could deny herself.

"Which book?" he asked.

"You pick," she said. For some reason and much to her surprise, he picked Jane Eyre. "Why that one?"

"I enjoy it," he said. "It's better than Wuthering Heights at any rate. That's morbidly depressing. This at least has a hopeful ending."

"Apt too," she said. "Mr Rochester at the end?"

"Well you're not grumbling over your blindness are you?"

"I do my best," she said lowly. "Skip to where Jane arrives at Thornfield." Harry obliged and she heard the pages flicking as he found the right page. Ruth pillowed her head against his chest comfortably and he stroked her hair once as they got comfortable on the sofa. Then he started to read.

It was a completely fruitless exercise, being that when Harry was reading, she couldn't concentrate on the story at all. She found herself focusing on the varied inflections of his voice and the tone. He was relaxed at the moment, more so than he ever was at work, and his voice felt like velvet as it washed over her. Or maybe honey, smooth and sweet. Whatever it was, it sounded almost heavenly. She could feel his voice reverberating through his chest where her head lay and she completely lost the thread of the story. All she did was breathe in deeply, inhale his familiar masculine scent and listen intently.

About twenty minutes later he was aware that she wasn't really listening to him. Or not the content of his words anyway. He closed the book and looked at her and they both felt time stand still completely. Ruth felt surprised that the tension between them hadn't lessened with her lack of eyesight. In fact it might have increased. She sat up and turned to face him and after a moment felt his fingertips gently stroke her cheek. Then he kissed her, deeply and passionately. Her hands crept up his chest and wrapped around his neck, holding him close in the embrace. His tongue traced her lips delicately and she moaned.

"This is no good," she complained briefly. She pulled out of the kiss and Harry felt his heart plummet. Her hands reached out to touch him lightly, not with any desire or want, but with a need to know where he was. Then she moved across the sofa and straddled him. "That's better," she whispered before resuming their kiss. "Much," she breathed, her breath washing over his lips. His arms pulled her chest close to his, as their kiss continued, getting sweeter as it went on. Ruth felt a pull, deep inside her. A yearning and a desperate desire for Harry, and she'd never felt that before. Or not from something as innocent as a kiss, but this kiss was far from innocent.

Which became patently obvious when she felt his erection between her legs, through the various layers of fabric. She broke away for a moment and Harry stroked her hair. "Sorry, I can't help it."

She rolled her hips close to him and he groaned loudly at the sensation. "I take it as a very flattering compliment," she said, her voice low and seductive. She moved towards him again and sunk into another intense kiss. Harry's hands started to slide up her back, underneath her top, fingers splaying on her bare skin. The clasp of her bra was right under his thumb, and he stroked her spine, debating whether he should unfasten it. He almost asked, but it seemed he didn't need to. "Yes Harry," she whispered into his ear, her tongue licking the edge gently, making him shiver. He flicked the fabric apart and then let his hands wander to her front. He squeezed her breasts gently, touching the smooth skin as much as he wanted to, and he wanted to badly. She had been biting his earlobe delicately so he could hear her panting as he kept touching her, thumbs going over her erect nipples. "Oh Harry…"

He stopped instantly and breathed deeply. He had to be careful. It was taking all of his willpower not to strip her naked and take her hard and fast on the living room floor. He had to fight his baser instincts for almost an entire minute before he felt safe to move again. Of course, with Ruth in darkness, and unable to see the struggle on his face, she thought she'd done something wrong. He could read it all there, as if etched onto her face. "No Ruth," he said softly, stroking her hair. "It's not you. Well, actually that's not true, it **is** you. It's completely you, being so irresistible to me. I was fighting the impulse to make love to you on the carpet." She smiled at that, some of the worry leaving her face.

"Well, I'm all for the first part, but I'm not eager to make love on the carpet," she said. "It's damn uncomfortable and carpet burns really hurt… on tender flesh." She spoke low and seductively and Harry swallowed.

"That sounds like the voice of experience," he said, feeling disappointed and hurt. She'd been with another man, in a passion so desperate and urgent that they hadn't been able to make it to a bedroom.

"Mm, well I'm not going to tell you all my secrets am I?" She instantly knew she'd gone too far as Harry froze with those words. "I'm sorry," she said. "I didn't mean… I was only teasing. I… I'm sorry."

He kissed her, but with none of the desire or urgency of before. More a kiss of reassurance and habit because his insides had gone cold. Even thinking of Ruth with another man, no matter how long ago sent a wave of red hot jealousy through him. The moment of passion, desire and impulse had well and truly gone. "I'm going to make us some tea," he said, needing an escape.

"Harry…" she said quietly, feeling a desperate loss she couldn't explain as he gently but firmly pushed her off of him. Ruth sighed with bitter disappointment as Harry went into the kitchen, she heard his footsteps receding. Why hadn't she just kept her mouth shut?

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**More soon. Thank you for all the reviews so far, they really make writing these fics a pleasure.**


	10. Chapter 10

Harry had gone back to his house for an hour or two. He needed to feed Scarlet and collect his post which had been mounting up for a few days now. He also thought it wouldn't be a bad idea to get some space away from Ruth. Just to clear his head and think. Or maybe it was simply a way to be away from her, and have his thoughts truly his own, not influenced by her presence.

It was when he was paying his electricity bill that he realised something. What had Ruth said? He'd been so distracted by images of Ruth writhing in uncontrolled passion on the carpet with a mystery man that he hadn't focused on the important part of the sentence. The part when she'd basically told him that she wanted him in her bed, and for more than sleep. So much more. He'd told her that he wanted to make love to her, and she'd all but agreed. And him, with his bloody overactive imagination had leapt on the image of Ruth with another man, killing the moment, and his imminent passion. Instead, he'd walked away from her, from the woman he loved and wanted so desperately that sometimes he couldn't see straight.

"Harry Pearce, you are a fool."

* * *

While Harry had been coming to this conclusion, Ruth was becoming considerably angry. She'd been left alone to stew, and the more she thought about it, the more furious she got. They'd been so close to actually coming together and Ruth could still feel him in memory, his desire hard between her thighs. And he'd walked away? Why? Because in the heat of the moment she'd said a few words he didn't like? "God, you insufferable man!"

She knew without a shadow of a doubt that his behaviour hadn't altered her feelings one bit, but it didn't stop her getting very, very angry while she was alone. Her loss of sight had a way of focusing her mind. She could remember the scent of him, she could remember his hands caressing her back, her breasts, her face. Gentle and delicately. Him saying he wanted to make love to her here and now. Everything came back to her perfectly clearly, with a deep sense of longing for it to have continued.

By the time Harry knocked on her door and walked through it, without waiting for her to answer (he'd been letting himself in for a few days now), Ruth was ready to spit fire.

"Hello," he said quietly, sitting next to the sofa. She glared at him, she couldn't help it. "Can you… see me?" he asked quietly.

This threw her for a moment. "No. Why?"

"You're giving me a perfect glare," he said calmly.

"I'm so angry with you," she said lowly. "How could you just walk away? Is it incomprehensible to you that I should have a past? That another man might want me? Because as far as I can see, that stupid worry is the reason you just walked out on me! Do you think no man could ever want me?!"

"No," he said, putting his fingers to her lips to quieten her for a moment, so he could speak. "No, I find it staggering that there isn't a queue of men waiting for you. Wanting you." The words were a simple statement, the tone was low and velvety, making her anger all but evaporate on the spot. "I'm sorry," he said sincerely. "I'm a jealous fool."

"Jealous, of what?"

"It wasn't what you said," he admitted. "It was the effect it had on my all too colourful imagination. I like… I like to think that you're mine. Even if its not true."

She felt herself melting towards him in spite of herself. "I am yours," she said quietly. So quietly he wasn't entirely sure she's said it. But she did. He smiled and kissed her very, very gently. When the kiss ended, Ruth sighed happily, her breath rushing over his lips sweetly.

"I love you." He hadn't intended to say it, but it had just slipped out when he wasn't guarding his words. Instead of Ruth stumbling over her words and trying to make her escape, like he'd half expected her to, she smiled. True, her face went blank for a moment or two in shock, but just a moment. Then a truly happy smile lit up her face. She reached out for him with her hand, just to find out where he was on the sofa. Then her smile broadened and she swung her leg over his lap, sitting just as she had been a couple of hours before. Leaning over him she let her lips trace his face softly, before kissing him full on the mouth. Almost as if it were a habit, his hands wrapped around her back, pulling her chest close. If it were possible, this felt even better than last time.

She let her tongue dart across the line of his jaw, working up towards his ear. "Just because you love me doesn't mean you can go off in a huff every time I say something you don't like."

"I know," he agreed. "I'm sorry."

"I love you too," she added in a low whisper, before kissing him behind his ear.  
He nuzzled into her neck. "That's so good to hear." He kissed her sensitive skin for a moment, then stopped. She was shaking. He moved so he could look at her properly and saw the truth. She was crying.

"Oh Ruth…" he said sadly, stroking her hair. "You don't have to do or say anything you don't want to."

"No, its not that," she said. "It's… I can't see you. I need to see your face. I've always imagined how you'd look when you told me you loved me. How your face would open up and your eyes would be bright. And now…"

"Oh Ruth," he said again.

"What I wouldn't give to see you. Just for a minute or two." He sighed slightly, but moved to wipe her tears away. Then he kissed her. She responded passionately, her legs tight around him. "Don't make me move away from you this time," she said breathlessly.

"I will, but only for a few seconds," he murmured. "I want to have you in a bed, not on the sofa." She smiled at him, the tracks of her tears drying on her face.

"I'd like that," she agreed. She stood up, holding his hand tightly and her eyes flicked upwards in suggestion. Harry kissed her palm and then led the way upstairs to Ruth's bedroom. Where they would be doing a lot more than sleeping.

* * *

**The rating will go up next chapter. Hope you enjoyed this update. I know Ruth's anger burnt out quickly, but I just couldn't keep her angry with Harry!**


	11. M rated warning

**Here we go, the long awaited M rated chapter. I hope it doesn't disappoint. Also, I hope I've avoided any typos, but I'm on my computer in the sunlight so I can't see most of the screen. (Making the most of the British summer while we have it!)**

* * *

They walked into the bedroom, silence filling the space between them. A sudden awkwardness had crept in which neither of them wanted. Harry kissed her, pulling her body against his, to try and bring back the comfort and exhilaration of their moments downstairs just a few minutes ago. It worked. Her body was soft and full against his and he felt the desire for her creeping over him. Gently, he pushed her onto the bed while kissing her. She let out a slight "umph" of surprise, but then smiled into the embrace and kept kissing him.

After long satisfying minutes, she sat up and spoke simply. "Harry… I want you." Her hands went to her blouse and she started unbuttoning it. He held her wrists.

"No. Let me. I want the pleasure of undressing you." She smiled slightly and dropped her hands. Harry took up her place, the buttons slipping from their holes with ease. With one finger he traced down her body, the gap shown by the open shirt. Down over the slope of her breasts, across her black lace bra and down over her stomach. She shivered at the touch and closed her unseeing eyes as he slipped her shirt off.

"Mm, Ruth… did you pick out this bra for my benefit?" Black sheer lace that already had him hard for her. His fingers went over the fabric, feeling her warm flesh just beneath, her hard nipples standing up, begging to be kissed.

"Well, I thought a little… persuasion wouldn't hurt," she said. She didn't mention that she'd been wearing her nicest underwear the entire time Harry had been in her house.

"I already find you irresistible," he murmured. "I don't need help." She smiled at that, knowing he was being honest. He let his fingertips caress her skin, very lightly before he removed her bra. Her breasts were perfect, skin almost white and he closed his eyes for a moment. He wanted this to be slow, so he had to control himself. He bent to kiss them and he couldn't stop. Her soft skin was delicious. Sweet and inviting. Ruth reached for him, her hands in his hair, urging him on. She never wanted him to stop touching her. He did, but only to kiss her mouth deeply. As their tongues tangled, she could feel his erection against her hip. Pulling back, she opened her eyes, desperate to see him. Of course she couldn't, but the desire to see him didn't vanish.

With a start of surprise, she felt him unfasten her jeans. "Is this okay?" he asked, sensing her freeze for a moment.

"Mm," she said. "Just a little surprised. But it's very… very okay." He pulled the zip down and breathed in deeply. He could smell her arousal, so enticing and it pulled at a yearning deep inside him. He wanted her badly.

All of a sudden he was gone, his weight on Ruth's body vanishing, as if into thin air. "Harry?" Then she felt him. He pulled her jeans off quickly and then kissed her toes and she smiled at the ceiling. His mouth worked slowly up the inside of her leg, fingers following in his wake. When he got to her knee she started giggling as he licked the back of it. "I'm ticklish there," she said. Harry nipped her gently with his teeth and she squeaked with surprise. He laughed, and kissing the inside of her thighs, working his way higher, kissing each leg in turn. Ruth could feel herself aching for him, and she needed to be touched between her legs. But Harry was taking his sweet time about it.

"Please!" she moaned, pushing her hips towards him. He chuckled, a teasing note in his voice.

"I intend to take my time," he said in a low purr. "I've wanted this… us for so long. I'm going to make it last." He kissed her thigh again, trying to make her lose herself. It didn't take long before she was mewling under him, completely lost in the sensation of his tongue and full lips. He breathed in deeply, again before he leaned down and sucked her through the thin cotton of her knickers, not even bothering to remove them.

"Oh God…" she moaned as the warmth of his mouth and the friction sent her so close to the very heights of pleasure. He sucked on her clitoris hard, and that was it. She came with a loud cry, her entire body tensing with delight.

Harry leaned on his elbow, watching her face as she climaxed. He'd longed to know what she'd look like when she was in the throes of passion for years. Eyes closed, face flushed and her lips parted, panting for breath. She looked more beautiful than ever before.

"All right there?" he asked smugly.

"Mmm," she replied happily. She started pulling at his shirt, trying to get it off. "I want you," she said. "Inside me. Get undressed. Now."

He might have made a comment about her being demanding, but didn't. Because he wanted the same thing and just as badly as she did. They both undressed him almost frantically, pulling at clothes, wanting him naked. Ruth was more of a hindrance than a help, but very soon they were both naked.

"Wait a minute," she said. "I need to… "see" you. I need a few minutes to touch you." He kissed her deeply but stayed immobile as her hands roamed over his naked body. She reached for his erection and he held as still as he could as she wrapped her hand around him. Her fingers went over every inch of him, and he swallowed audibly, trying to hold back. She moved her hand and cupped his balls gently thumb rubbing his so sensitive skin. Harry bit his lip, breathing heavily with the effort of not moving. She heard, and removed her hand. "Sorry, I shouldn't tease you."

He sighed heavily but didn't answer. He put his hand between her legs and she was already wet for him. Very wet. He held her firmly as he pushed inside her as slowly as he could manage. When fully sheathed inside her, he stilled and realised she was shaking. "Ruth?" he asked, voice full of concern and love. A slow satisfied smile spread out on her face. "Don't stop," she said forcefully as her legs tightened around his hips.

He grinned at her, kissed her and did exactly what she'd said. He didn't stop. He moved inside her very slowly and Ruth started whimpering under him, needing more. "Don't draw it out Harry. We'll have time for that later, but now… Fast… Please."

He obliged her, unsure of how he could hold back and make it measured anyway. Mouth on her right nipple, he sucked and licked her as he pushed inside her hard and fast, making the entire world fade away. Ruth felt him move inside her quickly and felt that nothing in the world had ever been this right. With a loud groan, Harry climaxed deep inside her and she bit back her disappointment. She'd been close herself but not quite close enough, and in her experience, once a man had had his desire sated, hers became irrelevant. She had had one climax after all, and that was more than she usually got. After a few moments when his breathing started to return to normal, she remembered Harry was not a usual man.

"Sorry," he murmured, voice cracked with passion and desire. "I wanted us to come together but I couldn't… hold back."

"It doesn't matter," she lied easily. A familiar lie, one which she usually told when she was too tired to fake it. Harry didn't speak and stayed perfectly still except for his right hand. It reached down between them and brushed her clitoris lightly. She jerked, not expecting the contact.

"Relax," he whispered into her ear, stroking her slowly, taking his time to build her up. She sighed with happiness and bliss, still feeling him as a solid presence inside her. God he was good. He knew just the right pressure to have her teetering on the edge of ecstasy. She knew he was watching her face closely, she could feel the weight of his gaze on her, but right now she just didn't care. All she cared about was Harry's thumb never stopping _that_. "Oh! That's… Christ…" With that, she climaxed in silence, her body shuddering and writhing with a bone deep satisfaction. Harry smirked at her, as satisfied as a man can ever be and then collapsed on the mattress next to her, slipping out of their most intimate joining.

"Mm," she said when coherent thought seemed possible again. "Night Harry."  
He chuckled at her, clearly satisfied, sated and blissfully happy, lack of eyesight notwithstanding. He kissed her hair once before pulling the duvet over their naked bodies.


	12. Chapter 12

Harry awoke alone and Ruth's side of the bed was cold. He slid his hand over to where she should lay, and there was nothing but tangled sheets. Sitting up and rubbing his eyes blearily he heard her. She was in the bathroom crying. Abandoning thoughts of curling up around Ruth sleepily and having a lazy morning with breakfast in bed, he got up and threw on a dressing gown for decencies sake (his shirt seemed to have disappeared) and knocked on the bathroom door twice before opening it. He found Ruth sniffing, wiping her eyes on the back of her hand, his shirt hanging off of her clearly naked body. Ignoring for the moment how bloody attractive she looked while wearing nothing but his shirt, he walked over to her and squeezed her hand.

"Ruth, what's wrong?" he asked quietly, praying it was nothing involving him.

"Nothing," she said, sniffing loudly.

"Don't lie."

"I'm frightened," she said after a moment. "God, I'm so scared Harry."

"Of me?" he asked in measured tones, confronting his worst fear.

"No Harry," she said, a faint smile on her face. "Not everything that happens to me involves you." She wiped her eyes with her free hand as Harry felt the fear in his heart lessen by several degrees. "Today… I have to go back into the hospital. Have my… tumour measured. MRI. Fatal news which I will hate to hear."

"You don't know it'll be bad news."

"I have a brain tumour Harry! That's a basis for building bad news on!"

Harry sighed, but knew she was right. Today was unlikely to bring anything that they would want to hear. Distant dreams of eating eggs and bacon with Ruth receded even further and he felt a lump in his throat. "Whatever happens today, I'll be with you."

"Not checking in on the grid today?" she asked.

"Don't be dense," he said. "Of course I'll be with you." She smiled at that reassurance and then ran her hands over his shirt.

"Sorry I borrowed it," she said. "I like… the way it feels on my skin. And the scent of you on the fabric." She blushed as she spoke, and Harry felt touched that she'd admitted to something so simple and honest.

"What time's your appointment?"

"Ten," she said.

"We'll be ready."

* * *

Getting dressed and going to the hospital happened in almost total silence. Ruth was nervous and terrified. Harry was just plain terrified. He couldn't lose her, not now he finally had her.

Harry parked the car and helped her get to the hospital, a hand on her arm to guide her. She hated needing help, but Harry didn't ask, just offered in the silence. He didn't want to draw attention to her helplessness. When Ruth checked in for her appointment they tried to put her in a ward with about five other patients but Harry wasn't listening. He had insisted on a private room for her, and when the head of counter terrorism insisted, no one got in his way. Not nurses, doctors or receptionists.

She was still rolling his eyes at his behaviour when a doctor came to take her to her MRI. "Can I go with her?" Harry asked, seeing the fear on Ruth's face.

"No I'm afraid not," he said. "We'll take good care of her, don't worry."

"It's all I am doing," he said quietly. "Worrying." Ruth heard him and bit her lip. He leaned over her hospital bed and kissed her thoroughly. "When you get back here we're going to have a conversation about last night," Harry said quietly so the doctor couldn't hear.

"What about last night?" she asked confused.

"I would never have done that then, if I'd have known you had a hospital appointment today."

She grinned with no abashment at all. "It distracted me and helped me to sleep."

"Oh I have my uses then," he said with a smile in his voice that told Ruth he wasn't taking it seriously. She kissed him again and then her hospital bed was wheeled away. And Harry was alone with nothing but frightening depressive thoughts for company.

* * *

It took a little less than an hour for Ruth to come back. Her eyes were closed but Harry somehow knew she wasn't sleeping. "The doctor will be in with your scans for your consultation in a few minutes," the nurse said. They were quickly alone and Ruth sighed. "How did it go?" Harry asked.

"Fine. I lay in a massive magnet while they take pictures of my brain. I haven't seen the scans yet. Or more accurately, I haven't been told the results. Seeing the scans is a bit outside my capability." She was annoyed, he could tell that much and wondered how much was coming from fear. Probably a good deal of it.

To calm both himself and her, he leaned across the bed and kissed her. She reacted instantly, but not in the way he'd hoped. She shook her head and tried to get away from him. He stopped instantly.

"Are we alone?" she asked.

"Yes."

Good, that's all I needed to hear." Then she returned to him, kissing him with a feverous passion that shocked him. Never before had it ever entered his head that he'd want to make love to a woman wearing a hospital gown. It did now though. Mm, yes, he thought as her tongue delicately flicked over his lips.

"Ahem," a cough came from the door. They broke apart like guilty teenagers, giggling like them too as the doctor came in, scans in his hand. Harry stopped laughing when he saw the look of seriousness on the doctors face and Ruth did too, sensing from Harry the change in the atmosphere.

"Just tell me," Ruth said simply. Harry was inclined to agree. The doctor looked at Harry as if wanting him to leave, but Harry wasn't going anywhere unless Ruth asked him to. "He's staying," Ruth said firmly, seeming to sense this even with sightless eyes.

"Okay," the doctor said, putting the scans on the light box and flicking the switch. Harry saw that both brain scans were labelled Ruth Evershed, but one was today, the other was from ten days ago. Ten days? Harry thought. So much had changed since then. He looked at the scans of her brain and held in his gasp of surprise with difficulty. He could see what he was supposed to be looking at, and the tumour had grown. Enough to be noticeably larger now. Ruth must have felt Harry's hand tighten on her own.

"Say it," she said tiredly.

"The tumour's grown," the doctor said simply.

"A lot?"

"A fair amount. Faster than we'd like."

"Okay," Ruth said with a sigh. She collapsed against the pillows breathing heavily. "So what now?"

"We want to remove it."

"Brain surgery?" she said quietly. Then shook her head. "No. I won't."

"Ruth…" Harry said quietly.

"No!"

"What are the other options?" Harry asked the doctor.

"None," he said. "She needs the surgery, otherwise…"

"I'll die," Ruth said filling in the blanks. "How long?"

"Don't be so morbid," Harry said instantly.

"No, I want to know," she said. "Please," she added to the doctor.

"A year. A good year," he added. "Then maybe six months after that when you're losing your faculties until…"

"I become a vegetable," she said tartly. "Thanks."

"If she had the surgery, would her eyesight come back?" Harry asked.

"I'm not having someone cut into my brain Harry."

"I want the information," he said firmly, cutting across her.

"It might," the doctor said. "There's no way of knowing until we're looking at the tumour to see how damaged the optic nerve is."

"Fantastic!" Ruth said sarcastically. "You can go now."

The doctor took her advice, put the scans in Ruth's file and left them alone. Harry was still reeling. A year? Only a year? It had taken them three times that to even get together in the first place.

"Don't make me do this Harry," she said, as if reading his mind. "Please. I don't want someone to cut into my head."

"I don't think anyone ever actually wants brain surgery," he said rationally, trying to stay calm. His MI5 training was highly useful at this present moment in time. All he wanted to do was cry and scream at the universe for doing this to them. Instead he was presenting an outward appearance of calm, even when internally he was crying at the news. "But one year Ruth. You don't want that."

"No," she said. "But it's better than the alternative."

"Is it?"

"If I have this operation tomorrow, I could die in less than 24 hours. Is that what you want Harry?"

"Of course not," he said. "But that year will be the worst year of your life. You'll always be wondering how long you have left. When you'll go. That's not a way to live Ruth. And you know it."

"I don't want to die," she said in a very small voice, and burst into tears. Harry wrapped his arms around her comfortingly as she sobbed into his shoulder. "Not now… not in a years time. I want to die when I'm old and grey in my bed. Hopefully with you next to me."

He smiled at her at that description. That kind of death wasn't usually an option for those who worked for MI5. But if she wanted to dream, that was fine with him. For one moment he allowed his feelings to take over. "Ruth?" he whispered into her hair. "Please. I can't lose you. Please. Have the operation. You need it."

"I'll think about it."

"Ruth…"

"No!" she said loudly, pulling back from him. "I won't be pushed into brain surgery Harry. I need time to think."

"Fine," he said, knowing when not to push her. "Shall I get your papers to be discharged?"

She forced a smile and nodded. "That'd be great."

Hiding his irritation through sheer force of will, he left the hospital room, wondering how he'd defeat Ruth's sheer stubbornness and determination. He had to changed her mind. There was no other option.

* * *

**Thank you for the reviews so far. They really mean a lot to me. (And yes, I know I've been mean to HR in this chapter.)**


	13. Chapter 13

That afternoon back at Ruth's house was awful. Ruth didn't say a word, and Harry knew she was deep in thought about whether to have the operation or not. This was good. At least she hadn't dug her heels in and refused to even consider it. The silence and the seriousness were starting to get to Harry, and after an hour or two he couldn't take it any longer. "I need to check in with the grid," he told her, hating himself for lying.

"Okay," she said. "You can tell them you know. What's wrong with me. Maybe if they know, I won't have people pitying me. They'll... get used to it maybe."

Harry said nothing, instead he kissed her deeply. "I won't be long," he said, feeling like a coward. She nodded and waited until she heard his car drive away before dissolving into tears. Fidget hated seeing Ruth upset, and instantly jumped on Ruth's lap for comfort. "I'll be all right," she told the cat, stroking him behind the ears. "At least I hope so."

* * *

Harry got to the grid and found Adam sitting in his office, looking right at home. For a moment a smile threatened to break out on Harry's face but he pushed it down. Smiling today didn't feel appropriate. Not today. He walked into his office and looked at Adam. "Harry," he said, seeing his erstwhile boss. "How are you?"

He didn't answer. Instead he pulled out a bottle of his best whisky, two glasses and poured himself a large measure. The bottle hovered over Adam's glass and Harry raised his eyebrow in question. Adam nodded easily. "Only a small one though." Harry took a large fortifying gulp of his own whisky, before topping it up and sitting opposite Adam.

"Ruth has a brain tumour," he said simply.

Adam stared at him blankly. After a moment of absorption, he spoke. "I don't understand."

"Yeah, I'm around about there at the moment," Harry said honestly. "She's refusing treatment."

"Why?!" Adam asked flabbergasted.

"She thinks if she goes under the knife she'll die. And her thinking is that it's better to have a year than to die tomorrow."

"Will she die?" Adam asked with a practicality that shocked Harry.

"She might," Harry said after a very large gulp of whisky. "Apparently it has a sixty percent success rate, which is a little lower than I'd like." He drained the glass completely. "Oh God Adam, I don't know what to do."

"Leave her to think," Adam advised. "She isn't stupid, she knows she needs this operation. She's just…"

"Frightened," Harry interrupted. "I know. I don't know what to say to her Adam."

"Well if you don't, no one will," Adam said honestly. "There's always been… something between you," he added quietly.

"Yes," Harry said. He rubbed his face in agitation.

"Just go and talk to her. You're not going to get any answers sitting here drinking whisky."

"I know." He sighed heavily. "Any problems here?"

"No," Adam lied easily. "And if there were I wouldn't tell you. Go home Harry." After a moment he nodded and took his advice.

* * *

That night Ruth was silent, thinking hard. Harry wanted to bring it up and talk about it, but he couldn't find it in him to break the silence. It was only when they were eating their supper that Ruth finally spoke.

"Will you love me if I'm bald?"

For a moment Harry just sat there, completely thrown by the conversation change. "Of course I will," he said. "Why?"

"I um… called the hospital. I've got the… I've booked in my surgery. Some of my hair will be shaved off."

"Oh God thank you," he said with pure relief. He reached across the table and grabbed her hand tightly. "Thank you. You know that a year… it just isn't enough. I need more time with you."

"I know," she said, very close to tears. "I am so scared Harry. I don't want to die." Abandoning his meal, he got up and reached over to her. He held her in his arms tightly as she cried quiet desperate tears. "This is so unfair," she sobbed into his shirt.

"I know," he agreed. "But you'll make it through this. I know you will." She said nothing, only kept crying. "Not to be insensitive, but how did you make the call?"

"I memorised the number," she said with a sniff, pulling away from him. "Then spent twenty minutes trying to dial the right one without going through to a wrong number. I think I've really annoyed some woman in Kent." He chuckled lightly at this. She backed away from him and wiped the tears from her face, feeling embarrassed at letting go of her emotions so completely in front of Harry.

He stroked her hair to silently let her know he was still there with her and she appreciated the gesture.

"When?" He asked. "When are you…"

"Having my brain split open?" she asked bluntly. "Thursday, but they want me in on Wednesday night to watch me overnight."

"Wednesday, that's tomorrow!" Harry said in surprise.

"I know," she said, her voice cracking under the strain of what she had to go through. "I'm… petrified Harry. I don't want… to d…"

"No," he interrupted. "You won't. This time next week, we'll be back home and everything will be back to normal."

Ruth shook her head. "Even if that happens to be true… I can't have things go back to normal. Not between us."

He smiled at her and drew her in for a soft kiss, lips just brushing hers very slowly. He drew back, but still close enough that his breath rushed over her lips. "I intend to kiss you everyday for the rest of my life."

"That's good," she said, a smile on her face. Leaning close, she kissed him again. "Can we make tomorrow… special? If its going to be… it, I want it to be special." Two more tears rolled down her face. "Just in case."

"Okay," he said, sensing not to argue with her. "I'll think of something… appropriate."

"Thank you Harry," she said. "I'm going to bed. Join me? Please?"

"I'll lock the house and then be right up." She nodded and let her hand hover on his silk tie for a moment, before going upstairs. Harry took a few minutes to breathe in deeply, feeling his hands shake at the thought that after tomorrow, his Ruth might be… No Harry. Don't think that, he told himself. He couldn't allow his mind to go down that road. Too dangerous.

* * *

**Any suggestions about what they could do tomorrow before hospital? I have a few ideas myself, but might include some others.**


	14. Chapter 14

**I've decided to bump up the story rating, as this chapter is M rated too.**

* * *

The night was sleepless for them both. Every time Ruth rolled over Harry woke. He usually slept lightly, but not like this. Every forty minutes or so he woke with a fear gripping his heart, that this would be the last time he'd get to sleep next to her. That it would be the last time he'd hear her quiet breathing. He told himself that of course she'd make it through the surgery, but it didn't stop the fear filling him. At about six in the morning he gave up, went into the kitchen and started frying bacon and eggs for breakfast. He made sure that his entire being was focused on cooking, so his thoughts didn't wander to unsafe territories.

When he'd made a tray up with tea and toast as well as breakfast, he brought it upstairs. Ruth's nose was scrunched up and she could clearly smell the bacon.

"Mm, that's breakfast."

"Yes it is," Harry said, getting into bed next to her. She sat up and Harry struggled to avert his eyes from her bare breasts as the duvet fell down.

"Tea?" she asked, her fingers in mid air above the tray. He guided her hand to her mug carefully and she smiled her thanks. She took a cautious sip and then tried to spear her bacon with a fork, which was trickier than it should have been. But she hid her annoyance well. He should have made a bacon sandwich, he thought. That would have been easier for her. Her next words distracted him though. "I want to ask you something."

"Go on," he encouraged.

"I'd like…" she blushed a gorgeous red and Harry couldn't help but smile at her.

"I'd like to share a bath with you," she said. "It's something I've always wanted to do, and I thought… now's as good a time as any."

Harry smiled encouragingly at her, but of course she couldn't see that, so he kissed her in reassurance. "That sounds… entertaining."

Ruth smiled back at him. She fumbled for her tea and took another gulp. Then she ate the bacon as fast as she could. "I'll run the water then. Join me?" Before he could answer, she got out of bed and threw the T shirt she slept in on the floor. He looked at her naked body for long moments until she closed the bathroom door behind her. He heard the water running and waited for a moment before following her. He watched as she poured bubble bath under the hot tap, filling the room with fragrant cherry blossom. He smiled and watched with interest as she sank into the tub, still keeping the water running into the bath. He watched as first the bubbles covered up her legs and lower body, and then started creeping higher towards her breasts. She turned the tap off and he admired the water droplets clinging to her full breasts, one about to drip off her hard nipple. God he wanted her.

"I know you're there Harry," she said. "I can hear you breathing. Get in." He didn't wait to be asked twice. He got in the tub which raised the water level so her breasts were hidden from sight. He sighed with disappointment and she laughed, as if reading his mind. The bath wasn't all that big and their legs were tangled together closely, but neither minded.

"We should have champagne," Harry said. "Romantic baths require champagne."

"Its too early in the morning," she said. "But I take your point. Ah!" She cried out as his toes found their way between her legs. "Mm…" she sighed under her breath as he didn't stop moving.

"Turn around," he said lowly.

"Hmm?" she asked in a daze of confusion. Harry firmly moved her, causing water to splash over the side of the tub but neither of them cared. He pulled her close, her back to his chest, the hot water slick between their bodies. His arms were tight around her waist and she leaned her head back against his neck. "This feels good," she whispered.

He smiled at her. "Which shower gel is your favourite?" he asked, seeing the array of products resting on the edge of the tub.

"There's a creamy pink bottle on the… left," she said. "It's got roses on the label. I like that one. It's so bloody expensive though." Harry chuckled and reached for the bottle in question. He also grabbed a sponge and poured the soap onto it. He lathered it up and then reached for Ruth's body. Starting on her stomach, he gently touched her body, the sponge going round in circles on her skin. He moved so slowly, causing delicious rippled of pleasure throughout her entire being. The sponge reached the tips of her breasts and she moaned at the stimulation. She was torn between the desire to lean forward towards the teasing touch and pushing her back against his chest.

"You have magic fingers," she said.

"And you have a beautiful body," he replied. He let the sponge drift downwards very slowly, over her stomach, her hips, the tops of her thighs. She parted her legs in invitation and he chuckled into her neck. She could feel his arousal against her bum and knew he wanted her just as much as she wanted him.

"No," she said firmly, as his hands skirted around just where she wanted them most. She turned around and wrapped her hand around his erection. "You're teasing me."

"I know," he said with a smile. "That's the point. Oh…" he ended in a low moan as she pushed herself onto him, her warmth enveloping him. She gasped at the deep penetration and steadied herself, with her hands on either side of the tub. This gave Harry a perfect view of her glistening breasts. Leaning forward he sucked one nipple as she slowly set the rhythm. She was in complete control and he knew it. He loved seeing her like this, so bold and sure of herself. He hoped he'd see her like this more often. If… No, stop thinking he told himself.

"I love you Harry," she said in a hoarse gasp as she moved on top of him. "Oh God…" He didn't have the breath to speak with. All he could do was feel her moving, and in what felt like moments, his climax rushed over him. Ruth groaned at the feeling and felt her own orgasm pulled her into a blissful oblivion.

When she felt consciousness return to her again, she could feel her head resting on Harry's chest, his hand stroking her wet hair. The bath was cold and she fought back a shiver. "We need to move before we catch pneumonia."

"I know, but you were sleeping," he said. "And you looked so peaceful."

"That, and the fact you had a naked woman against your body and you didn't want to move."

"Well there was that to it to," he agreed. She reached for the plug and pulled it out so the bath started to empty. "How long was I… out of it?"

"I have no idea, but I take it as a massive compliment." He kissed her forehead as the water drained away. "And you need to get dressed. I'm taking you out for lunch."

"Where?"

"A great fish restaurant by the Thames. I've been meaning to try it for ages. Perfect day today, the suns out."

"Is it?" Ruth reached blindly out for some towels and found them, slightly damp but they'd do the job. She stood up, dripping and felt Harry rubbing her dry. He had such a good firm touch, and she never wanted him to stop.

"Lets get dressed."

* * *

Lunch was wonderful. The restaurant really knew how to cook fish. Ruth had prawns and plaice, while Harry had the Dover sole and scallops. But they had shared most of the meal, including dessert which was a delicious white chocolate mousse. Ruth felt full and happy, as long as she didn't think about tomorrow.

"I'm going to take you to Paris one day," Harry said quietly as they finished their drinks. "It's a beautiful city."

"I know," she said. "I've been there, but only once. Lets avoid the Eiffel Tower though. I don't like it."

"Really?"

"The views from the top are beautiful and it's a massive structure, but it's an ugly brown hulk of metal," she said as Harry laughed. "Sacre Coeur or the Arc de Triomphe are so much more beautiful. Oh and Notre Dame. And the Louvre, such a wonderful museum."

"And a boat ride on the Seine?"

"Absolutely," she said. A wistful smile filled her face. "If I don't get to do that…"

"Ruth, no," he said firmly, squeezing her hand tightly. "You are going to be fine. I will not let any other possibility happen."

"I need to say this," she said, anguish on her face. "If I don't make it, I want you to go to Paris anyway. And think of me while you're there."

"Criticising the most famous Parisian landmark?" he asked when he could find his voice. She smiled, even though it wasn't remotely funny.

"Yes," she said. "Think of me when you see that ugly structure by the Seine. Just… you know. Just in case." He lifted her palm and kissed it.

"I promise. But, it won't need to happen. I will go to France with you."

"Okay," she agreed. Harry paid the bill in silence, both of them worrying about what was to come.

* * *

The afternoon rushed by far too quickly. Ruth found herself thinking of her mother. She hadn't called in a while, and she'd mentioned nothing to her about her brain tumour for several reasons. She didn't want to worry her mother, and she didn't want the inevitable crying and shouting mixed with a good dose of pity. Harry felt sorry for her and the situation, she knew that but he had a way of not letting it colour everything he said and how he treated her.

"Harry? I haven't… called my mother."

"Oh Ruth," he said, shaking his head. "You should have."

"I know," she said. "But I'm not going to either."

"Ruth…"

"Which means if things don't go well.."

"I'll be left to make a highly uncomfortable phone call," Harry said. "Don't…" he was tempted to say "don't do that to me" but then realised this wasn't about him at all. This was about her needing reassurance about the people she'd leave behind if the surgery went wrong.

"I hate asking you," she said. "I really do, but I don't want to worry her."

"She'd want to see you Ruth."

"Oh I know she would," Ruth said. "I can't cope with her sympathy. I just can't. And she'll have a way of twisting everything so it's all about her. I can't Harry. I love my mother, and I don't want to seem ungrateful to her. But I like the distance between Exeter and London."

"Its only one train ride away."

"Yeah, a four hour one," Ruth said. "Those four hours are comforting. They stop the arguments."

Harry laughed, he couldn't help it. "All right," he agreed. "If it comes to it, I'll make the call that will make your mother want to strangle me." Ruth laughed too. Harry looked at his watch. "We have to go. Hospital."

"I know."

* * *

**Thank you for the reviews so far. I hope to get the next chapter done over the weekend.**


	15. Chapter 15

"Go home!"

"Hmm?" Harry had been distracted but Ruth could feel the tension coming off of him in waves.

"I am never going to get to sleep with you worrying about me. It's going to be hard enough as it is, being monitored by all these machines. I can feel you worrying about me, and its annoying. I need sleep."

"Okay," he said, knowing she had a point. "I'll be back first thing in the morning.

"Fine," she said, breathing heavily. He knew he was irritating her and thought it wouldn't be a bad idea to leave her to sleep on her own. "I love you," she added, her voice much softer.

"I know. I'll be in as early as I can. Don't let them wheel you off before I get here."

"I won't," she said. Harry kissed her deeply and then left. Ruth sighed in relief and curled up on her side. She needed her sleep.

* * *

Much to her surprise, she did sleep, and very well. She only stirred in the morning when Harry gripped her hand very gently. It was as if she was attuned to his presence and she smiled as she came out of her slumber. "Hi," she said, sitting up in bed.

"I didn't mean to wake you," he said, not letting go of her hand.

"I'm going to spend the next few hours under sedation," she said. "I can stand being woken up early." She squeezed his hand. "I'm glad you're here."

He leaned over and kissed her softly. "You're going to be fine," he said.

"Then why do you sound so worried?"

"I can't help it," he said. He kissed her again. "Just if you see the white light…"

"Run like hell in the opposite direction," she said, smiling. "Yeah, I get the picture."

The door opened and a doctor came in. "We need to take you to the operating room now."

"Perfect," Ruth said sarcastically.

"How long?" Harry asked.

"The surgery typically takes between eight and ten hours," the doctor said. "Don't worry," he added to Ruth. "I'll keep your husband updated."

"Oh, I'm not…" Harry started, trying to explain he was mistaken, but Ruth squeezed his hand to make him keep silent.

"Thank you," she said, smiling sweetly. "He'll be climbing the walls."

"Do you blame me?"

"No," she said. "Come here." He kissed her deeply and stroked her hair.

"Come back to me."

"I'll do my best." A couple of nurses came in, and wheeled Ruth away, and suddenly Harry was alone. With nothing but fear for company.

* * *

Three hours later Harry found himself pacing in the waiting room. This was torture. Russian and Islamic torture chambers had nothing on this. The insufferable waiting while the woman whom he loved more than life itself might be dying in this very building.

"What are you doing here?" Harry asked as Adam came into view.

"I've had a long night on the grid," he said. "No, don't worry," he added. "It's fine. I just thought you might need some company."

"I can't stop worrying Adam. What if she…"

"She won't," Adam said firmly. "Of course she won't. When has Ruth ever given up on any case at work? She isn't going to give up on herself."

"God I hope you're right."

* * *

The hours went by so incredibly slowly. Adam had to get back to the grid, and Harry spent about an hour trying to work out what the problem was. It was preferable to be worrying about that, rather than what was happening to Ruth at present.

After about ten hours of worrying, fitful dozing and terror, a doctor came to see him. It was the fourth time he'd been visited by one, while waiting desperately for news, but this time it was different. Harry knew it was over, just from the look on his face. The operation was finished. What Harry didn't know was whether it had been successful or not.

"How is she?" Harry asked, his voice cracking with the strain of the last day.

"She's in recovery," the doctor said with a smile. "It went well."

"She's going to be okay?" Harry asked in disbelief.

"We think so," he said. "We'll know more once she wakes up, but the tumour's gone."

"Oh God," Harry said in a sigh, breath coming out in a rush. "I want to see her."

"Of course," the doctor replied. "Follow me."

On the way to Ruth's hospital room Harry asked more questions as they occurred to him. "Is she definitely going to wake up?"

"There is no certainties after brain surgery," the doctor said. "I'm not going to say one way or the other. She _should_ wake up."

"Okay," Harry said slowly. "And her eyesight? Will she get that back?"

"I don't know. The optic nerve hadn't been completely severed, so that's a good sign, but the tumour might have done too much damage. Only Ruth will be able to tell us."

"How long before she wakes up? Roughly," Harry added, seeing that the doctor looked uncomfortable at the question.

"Probably around eight hours or so," he replied. "It takes the body a long time to recover from brain surgery. Maybe as long as two days though."

"I guess I'll be living in the hospital for a few days then," Harry said under his breath.

"This is her room."

"Thank you." Harry opened the door and felt a jolt of pure relief go through his bloodstream. Ruth was alive. Unconscious, but alive. Instantly he was by her side, holding her hand and kissing her lips briefly. "You're alive," he whispered. "Don't sleep for too long okay?" He brushed her hair away from her face, swallowing hard when he saw a bandage covering part of her head. Where her skull had been broken and then they'd cut into her brain. The thought was horrifying. "Don't leave me. I love you."

* * *

**I have completely invented all the medical details, so I know they're inaccurate. Hope no one minds. More soon. Thank you for all the reviews so far.**


	16. Chapter 16

**The last chapter, save for the epilogue. Reviews dropped for the last installment, so I hope this is better.**

* * *

Harry stayed with Ruth all night. He kept a firm grip on her hand and a wary eye on her heart rate, showed by the machines that she was hooked up to. Every now and then he dozed, his head resting on the bed, unable to keep his eyes open any longer at three in the morning.

He awoke with a jerk at six thirty and sighed. Still no movement from Ruth. Still unconscious. He fought off the brutal disappointment and tried to reason with himself. She will wake up. At some point, she will. She has to.

His stomach growled, taking him out of his maudlin thoughts. When was the last time he'd eaten? Not yesterday. The day before? At the fish restaurant he'd taken Ruth to? Forty hours ago. He really should eat something but he didn't want to leave Ruth. Knowing his luck, she'd wake up while he was gone. He couldn't risk that. He didn't want her to wake up alone and frightened.

"Come on Ruth, just open your eyes," he said to himself. "Please."

"God I have a headache." The whisper was so quiet he wasn't entirely sure he'd heard it.

"Did you just speak?" he demanded. Her eyes were still closed and she hadn't moved, but he thought he heard her voice. "Did you say something? Talk!"

"Be quiet," she said, her voice a whisper. "I said I have a headache."

"You're awake?"

"Either that, or I'm in a very unfulfilling heaven." She screwed up her face in pain long enough for it to break through Harry's delight at having her conscious once again. He pushed the call button and a nurse appeared very quickly.

"She's in pain, can you give her something to help her?"

The nurse nodded and adjusted one of the many wires and tubes attached to her and after a moment nodded to herself. "You should feel some pain relief in a few seconds. I'll just get the doctor to come and speak to you." Ruth nodded and then let out a sigh of relief as the pain meds started working.

"Oh that's better."

"I'm so glad you're conscious," Harry said fervently.

"You're here," she said, a slight smile on her face.

"Where else would I be? Can you open your eyes?"

"No," she said stubbornly. "I'm going to live for a few more moments in the blissful belief that I might be able to see. Because if I open my eyes and I can't… I'll just live with the hope a little longer."

"Okay," he said, not pushing her. Instead he leaned over her and kissed her lips firmly. "Promise to never worry me like this again."

"I promise," she said sleepily. "Am I tumour free?"

"Yes," he said with a smile. "Your life expectancy is back to what it should be."

"That's great," she said, her voice slurring with tiredness. "I'm going to drift off again," she warned.

"Okay," he repeated, knowing it was the medication. "I love you."

"Mm…" she said. "Love you too." Then she went to sleep, her even breathing filling the room. Harry smiled at her, feeling the lead weight go out of his stomach, if only for a moment or two.

* * *

When Ruth next woke up, she could feel Harry's presence in the room. She didn't have to open her eyes, and he didn't have to speak, but she knew he was there. She felt a pressure on the back of her head where the bandage pressed against her skull and rolled onto her side towards Harry. "You're awake," he said, pleasure and relief in his voice.

"You don't have to sit over me and watch me you know."

"Mm, well I did leave you for about ten minutes for a coffee," he said. After getting a bollocking from the doctor for letting you fall asleep without getting you to open your eyes."

"Hm," she said with a smile. "I guess I can't put it off much longer." She sighed loudly as Harry gripped her hand. Then she opened her eyes. She had to blink several times but nothing came to her. Everything was a haze of light and fuzzy shapes.

"No luck?" he asked, bitterness colouring his voice, even though he tried to hide it she could tell.

"I need a minute." She blinked several more times as Harry's thumb stroked the back of her palm. Were things coming back into focus? Or was she just living in hope? No, they were. She realised she was looking out of the window, harsh sunlight completely filling her vision. Deep inside she felt a smile fill her. She could see. Shifting her gaze to the right she saw Harry watching her. She couldn't make out his expression, not yet, but her vision was getting clearer.

"Ruth?" he asked. "Can you…?"

"Sort of," she said. "You're a bit… blurry."

"But you can see?"

"Yeah," she said slowly. Harry grinned widely, that much she could see. She could see, but he was a bit out of focus. "I think I'm going to need glasses though. Come closer." He did and then all of a sudden he was crystal clear. It was as if he snapped into focus and she could see him, as if for the first time ever. The mask that he usually wore at work to hide his emotions, he didn't when they were together. It was as if she saw him for the first time. She let her fingertips trace the lines of his face very gently. After a minute of this, he couldn't take it and he kissed her thoroughly.

"You're going to be okay," he said, almost with disbelief. "You're really going to be okay."

"Yeah, I think so." She actually laughed at that. "God I'm glad, I wasn't ready to die."

"And I wasn't ready to lose you," he said. He kissed her again, and Ruth kept her eyes open the entire time.


	17. Epilogue

**The epilogue turned out nothing like I planned. (Quite fluffy too as it turns out) But enjoy anyway!**

* * *

**3 months later**

Ruth reached across to the bedside table and hurriedly got her glasses on. Harry had got in late, from a long JIC meeting and had only had a few hours sleep. In sleep was the only time she could admire him without Harry either becoming embarrassed, or trying to kiss her (which usually worked in distracting her attention). After a moment of hesitation, she threw the bed sheet back so she could look at his naked body completely. The only thing he wore was a gold wedding ring which always made her smile, whenever she caught an unexpected glimpse of it.

Feeling her hands long to touch him, she held back with difficulty. It wasn't fair to wake him. She loved to look at him. His body wasn't perfect, but then neither was hers. There were many scars that covered his chest, which was a reminder at how close she could have come to losing him. She still could, she thought. Working for MI5 was hardly a safe career, but at least they weren't wasting any more time. Her eyes went down the muscles of his chest and then she jumped as he spoke.  
"I know you're watching me," he said, still with eyes closed. "I can feel your eyes on me."

"I'm not going to apologise," she said, carrying on doing it. "I like to look at you." He opened his eyes and smiled at her.

"I have to be in at work soon anyway," he said looking at the clock. "I need to be awake. Do you miss it?"

Ruth smiled to herself. She had left MI5 after recovering from her brain surgery. The constant hum of computers and electronically equipment on the grid gave her a permanent throbbing headache, and she couldn't do the work properly, as well as being in pain for most of the time from the sound. A remnant from her surgery. So she had left MI5. "I don't miss the work," she said slowly. "I do miss being able to watch you from across the grid for eight hours a day. I miss being your confidante on the grid. You told me anything and everything, some of which was far past my clearance level without even thinking about it. Now…"

"I only keep back what I have to," he said quietly. "You know that. I'd tell you everything if I could, but some of it is dangerous, and I want you protected."

"I know," she said. "You speak to me as if… talking to yourself. That's how much you trust me, and I love that. It makes me feel so special. But every now and then you stop yourself. That's what I miss."

He rolled on top of her, pushing his body comfortingly against hers. "You know me," he said. "You know me better than anyone else in the world. That is not a small thing Ruth. You have no idea what it means to be able to tell you anything that enters my head."

He leaned to kiss her but Ruth fidgeted, trying to take her glasses off. "Don't. Leave them on. It gives you the sexy librarian look."

"Oh really?" she asked with a grin. He kissed her deeply, his hand entwining with hers. His fingers reached her wedding ring and he pulled away, looking at the gold band.

"I'm sorry about our wedding."

"Would you stop apologising?" she said exasperated. They'd already had this conversation several times. "I didn't want a big wedding anyway."

"Well, it was rather…"

"Rushed?" she suggested. "Yes, I know. And we got married a lot quicker than I imagined, but I don't feel like we made a mistake."

"No?" He did worry about this. That one day she'd realise she'd completely rushed into this and then leave him.

"Of course not. I couldn't bear the alternative Harry."

"Neither could I."

Retired MI5 agents are not allowed to communicate with current employees of her majesties secret service. Which at the time Ruth had left, had given them three options. They stop seeing each other (unthinkable), they hide their relationship, and meet in secret (very possible, but not what either of them wanted. Too many secrets to add one more, and when they got discovered, Harry would be in all sorts of trouble), or to get married quickly and quietly.

Which they did. Ruth would have refused, had it not been clear that Harry had bought her engagement ring before she'd left MI5.

She twisted it on her finger to take it off for a moment. She wanted to reread the engraving again. Harry watched her, a soft smile on his face.

_Ruth, with all my heart Harry._

She ran her fingertip over the lettering and then watched as Harry took it from her and slipped it back on her finger before taking her hand in his. "I like to see you with both rings on. So I know you're mine."

"I don't need two metal bands on my finger to know I'm yours," she said simply. He kissed her deeply, pressing her body into the soft mattress. Ruth indulged herself with the fantastic kiss for a moment, but then she looked at the clock.

"When do you have to get to the grid?"

"Soon," he said. He rolled his hips towards hers making his intentions clear.

"You don't have time."

"I'd argue that point."

She sighed happily. "Go on then," she said, opening her thighs in invitation.

"Oh such enthusiasm," he said sarcastically. "Glad to know you find me irresistible." He grunted as her hand pressed between his legs.

"I do find you irresistible," she said, her voice low and seductive. Her thumb ran over the length of him and he groaned. "You know how much I love to look at you Harry. And touch you. And kiss you."

"Much better answer then "go on then" isn't it?"

"Mm," she agreed. "How long before you have to leave?"

"Twenty minutes? Optimistically."

"Better hurry up then." She laughed happily as he kissed her neck, showing no intention of making this quick. He was going to be late to work this morning. They both knew it.

* * *

**Thank you for all the reviews, and it would make my day if you could leave one more. More stories coming soon.**


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